


Bad Company

by Meskeet



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Beauregard's Resting Bitch Face, Bonding, Frenemies, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meskeet/pseuds/Meskeet
Summary: “So you went… shopping with me, and then jumped into another fight club?”(Sometimes the emphasis in downtime is on the worddown.)





	Bad Company

**Author's Note:**

> Hi fandom ;O Long time lurker for the fandom, first time dipping my toe in the water. I'm a little behind episode wise, but can't wait for these two to find their mojo together.

“You might have ducked.”

“Gee, thanks. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Beau looked as though she might have continued, but instead she just leaned over the side of the bench and spat out another mouthful of blood. The stuffy rasp in her voice probably left her tone further from threatening than Beau had intended.

Caleb’s lips twitched as he handed her a mug of water. Beau spat _that_ out too, but by the time she was done, he’d managed to smooth over his facial expression.

He hoped.

Beau glared at him as he pulled the rag from against her eye and rewet it with the mug. A quick incantation had the fabric icing over as he handed it back to Beau. She slapped it vigorously over her reddened left eye once more and winced. There was a long pause as she stared at him with an expression that made it seem like he’d given her a particularly sour lemon to suck on.

 “… Thanks.”

It was so soft that he almost missed it, but apparently Fjord’s lessons were beginning to stick.

Considering that she’d just had her ass handed to her by an equally loudmouthed dwarf in the bar, it was probably a miracle that he’d gotten that much out of her.

Behind them, cheers poured out of the open door of the tavern he’d just dragged her out of as someone else likely fell beneath the dwarf’s fists. It probably had been a bit too much to ask that his quiet afternoon of shopping _remain_ that way, but Beau had pulled him along in a whirlwind of enthusiasm and a promise that _you can read your book if you want! Look at the purse they’re offering!_ that had in no way been close to coming true.

There was one good thing to be said for travelling with a group – if he could get Beau ambulatory, Jester could take care of the rest. No more being nudged awake at all hours by Nott with a _Caleb! Caleb! How many fingers am I holding up?_ Though –

“Are you dizzy?”

“Huh?” Beau sat up and put her elbows on her knees, blinking a few times in quick succession. Caleb claimed the other half of the bench, tying the mug back onto his pack before he leaned across to stare at her still bleeding nose to try to judge how far out of place the dwarf had hit it. “Eh, I’ve been knocked out before. You said I wasn’t out long?”

“That wasn’t my question, Beauregard.”

“He cheated,” Beau grumbled. “I’m sure he used magic. Look, if you can just reset my nose, I’ll go back in- fuck!”

The last was yelped rather loudly as Caleb pulled down, feeling a distinct pop as he realigned the fracture. He drew his hands away as fresh blood swelled from her nose.

“Caleb you fucking fuck, what the actual shit-”

“Are you done?”

“No I’m not fucking done,” Beau snapped, and then proceeded to spend several minutes bent over on the bend, swearing as blood and snot dripped onto the ground below. She didn’t look like she would be moving anytime soon, so Caleb cracked open one of his new books.

“Maybe a little dizzy,” Beau admitted after she finally started to run out of steam. “Nothing too bad. Who are you again?”

If he’d been able to argue the vendor down from ten silver, Caleb would have been tempted to throw the book at her. As it was, he very carefully set a bookmark in his place and closed it before he looked over.

“Just the poor wizard you’ve been following around all afternoon,” he grumbled. “Don’t you have something better to do with our time off?”

Beau tilted her head back and gagged a little bit on what was surely some disgusting mixture of blood and snot. Caleb waited politely for her to finish. “Nott had to go pick up her new crossbow,” Beau said, as though that was supposed to be some sort of explanation.

“So?”

“So maybe I had nothing better to do while she was busy.”

Caleb opened his mouth for a sharp retort, then reminded himself that they were trying to get along with these people. Some days were easier than others. “So you went… shopping with me, and then jumped into _another_ fight club?”

She shrugged, dabbing at her eye again with the rag. “Ran out of money for those old books, yeah? Thought we could hustle some gold out of them if we won, it’s not like I thought some old country village would have an ex-mercenary fucking around in the tavern. Gods, doesn’t he have better things to do besides hustle travelers?”

He started at her. Her eye _and_ nose had ballooned up in the time since they sat down, leaving one side of her face puffy and stretched in comparison to the other. Blood had run down from her nose and been smeared along her chin. Rivets of sweat exposed a little bit of her actual skin, but the muck of the tavern floor still covered the front of her shirt and most of her face.

Although he was pretty sure that earning a few gold for supplies was just a nice side effect… “That was almost sweet.”

She fixed him with a look. “Don’t you dare tell Fjord.”

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your image,” Caleb agreed mildly. He paused in thought as Beau spat up a few more globs of who-knows-what. She had gotten in a few good hits before the fighter had taken her out in a single solid punch. Maybe…

Oh, no. Caleb shook his head. Bad idea – except Beau _had_ mentioned that she thought he’d used magic, and he could use more parchment. They had no plans for the evening and he’d only done a few minor spells in the morning that meant…

“You have a health potion?” He asked, absentmindedly, glancing at Beau. He raised an eyebrow at her when he caught her poking her nose with the hand not holding the rag to her eye.

“What do I look like, an amateur?” Yes, to translate the Beau-speak. “It’s in my bag. Give it to me so I can go beat the living daylights out of him.”

On one hand, just about everyone – except maybe Molly, who barely batted an eye at them when they were injured – would tell Beau that she needed to go lay back down and let Jester heal her in case there was some sort of concussion. Nott would tell him to leave her and by all rights, he should. Still – whatever her reasons, she had come along to if not watch his back, at least keep him company during his trip.

Caleb adjusted his coat on his shoulder, pulling his scarf a little closer to block out the cool fall air. It was more difficult than expected to shrug away the idea of Beau getting pummeled without anyone there to drag her out of the tavern again. He offered her a hand, grimacing at the smeared dirt and traces of blood she left behind once she released him.

The haste spell was easy enough to cast, magic slipping along his outstretched fingers and dancing along her own, and just as easy to keep unnoticed as Beau slung back a health potion. The monk cracked her knuckles, shoving the rags she’d been using to pinch her nose back into her pack.

If she wobbled, it was only for a step or two. Caleb sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat.

This was a _bad_ idea but –

Beau grinned at him, wiping a little more blood away from her mouth and a little spring in her step. “I’m going to own him this time around.”

“Uh-huh,” Caleb mumbled, already feeling the first inklings of regret that he couldn’t leave well enough alone. “At least try to last for more than one hit this time around, yes? I do not want to have to drag you out again.”

She glowered at him, but to his surprise, her smile didn’t falter. “You’re staying, then?”

He shrugged. “I can read just as well here as anywhere else.”

A fresh cacophony of noise made him grit his teeth, loud cheers bursting out from the tavern at the sound of something crashing into wood. Another loud snap heralded at least something solid had broken. Beau grabbed his hand, pulling him _closer_ to the noise, oblivious to his grimace.

“You better bet _big_ , Widogast.”

Caleb pulled his coat a little tighter as they entered, picking his way over to a relatively cleaner looking table. Beau, already loudly challenging the dwarf that had broken her nose less than thirty minutes ago to a rematch, gave him a pointed look. Caleb clenched his fist around the gold she’d slipped him on the way in and sighed, leaning towards a rather disreputable looking man on the other side of the table.

“A gold on that idiot,” he said.

The man laughed, slapping two coins down in return. “Ah’ll take tha’ – dinna ya drag her out a few minutes ago?”

Caleb watched Beau draw up her fists, her ready pose in contrast to whatever joke she was telling the onlookers nearest to her. He sighed mournfully. “Unfortunately I can’t seem to get rid of her.”

The man chuckled, then raised an eyebrow as Beau burst into a frenzy of action that would have been more at home in a sparring ring than in the middle of a bar ring. The haste spell was barely noticeable – Beau’s flurry a force of nature by itself, even before she started to sneak in extra hits against the solid dwarf. He winced when the dwarf snapped his fist into Beau’s face _again_ because damn it, he just fixed that. 

This time, Beau didn’t fall – instead, she picked up the pace, kicks and punches landing with building momentum. The dwarf was faster than Caleb would have expected -  maybe there was something to her accrediting some of his victory to magic after all – and managed to slip away from several of her hits.

When the dwarf hit the ground, the tavern fell silent. Caleb winced as Beau grinned, leaning down to offer her opponent a hand up. The tavern patrons muttered a little bit as Beau propped her hands on her hips and said, “Well? Who’s next?”

Caleb scooped the three coins off of the table, dropping them into his coinpurse and made his way as casually as possible to Beau.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t I _cool?_ Oof!” The last was from Caleb shoving her bo staff and bag at her.

“Yes, yes, you were cool,” Caleb agreed, grabbing her and pulling her towards the door. “But let’s go before-”

The dwarf had begun to shake off his stupor, pushing away his friends and his gaze latching onto Beau with an ugly expression. “When I get my hands-” He started to roar.

“No hard feelings, right?” Beau said, over the sound of Caleb muttering, “Before _that_ happens.”

Several things happened at once, then – Beau stretched out her hand for a handshake as Caleb pulled her away and the dwarf – yes, _that_ was definitely magic – shoved himself off of his bench and started to stalk towards them. The tavern had grown from quiet to loud, and Caleb could hear the beginnings of an _actual_ bar brawl beginning.

It took a good few minutes to extract themselves – Caleb had managed to keep Beau between himself and the troublemakers for most of the time, but a hit or two had snuck its way past her guard. She was definitely looking worse for wear – one hit in the ribs had been enough to shake his concentration on it, and Beau was actually _yawning_ by the time they made it free of the melee.

They burst out of the doors, Beau laughing the whole time and trying to shrug off Caleb so she could join in. She shoved a sack of coins into his hand, smirking as they hurried down the street.

“So,” she said, both her eyes now swollen instead of just the one and her knuckles split from the force of her punches, “When are we doing this again?”

Caleb rolled his eyes. Although his nose was certainly unbroken, he could feel new bruises forming on his back and jaw. “Next time, bring Yasha,” he told her. “At least she’ll enjoy it.”

The skip in her step was back as they slipped down one of the side alleys. “Sure, Caleb. Whatever you say.”

“You get to explain this to Nott,” he grumbled, and Beau didn’t stop laughing the whole way back to the inn.


End file.
